Punisher: War Chronicles
by Poseidon Entertainment
Summary: My Version of a Punisher On-going series. Watch as the vigilante known as the Punisher take his one man war on crime. Issue three is up. Current arc: Untouchable.
1. Issue One

_**Untouchable Part One**_

_**Written By Poseidon Productions**_

The streets of New York City was a dangerous place to be at night. Gangs, drug dealers, rapist, muggers and many kinds of scum was lurking in the streets. In Spanish Harlem, trouble was rearing his ugly head. Several Puerto Rican gang bangers called Los Hijos de Venganza were arming themselves for a fight. Just a few days ago, a few of it members who were making the rounds collecting drug money from their sponsored dealers when they were jumped by their mortal enemy, the African American dominated 212 Boyz.

Their dealers and their member were killed, drugs taken and money stolen. With this transgression, the gangs were arming themselves for war. The group of fifteen bangers were huddled over a trunk full of weapons, loading up on ammo. The main weapons for the night were German made MPL 9mm sub-machine guns. Two men had 7.62mm AK-47 assault rifles. The groups main side arm was were 9mm CZ-75 pistols. When they finished up, the fifteen men piled into three cars and made their way to 212 Boyz territory.

For more than an hour the war party searched anybody flying the color gray, the 212 boys color. Though they found a few black guys wearing gray, they were unaffiliated with their rivals. Soon after giving these men beatings, they saw another man wearing gray and then throw up the 212 Boyz hand signal. The Puerto Rican in orange drove at him but the man ran into a parking lot. The Sons pursued him and when they pulled in to the lot, he was standing in the middle of it, smiling smugly.

Despite the fact the Sons found this man's actions was odd, the Latino gang bangers exited their vehicles and aimed their assorted weapons at him.

"What ya smiling about, fucking nigger?" The leader of the Latinos asked.

"I'm about to watch my home boys smoke your wet back asses away," The African-American man said smugly.

Before the Latinos could react, a group of five of his buddies came out of hiding from different directions. They were armed with M4A1 Carbines with one hundred round C-Mag drum magazines on them. The Latino leader was surprised, wondering were the 212 Boyz get this kind of fire power.

The 212 bangers fired on their rivals, the 5.56mm rounds tore through the Latinos like butter. Blood was flowing all over the place. A few head exploded and brains hit the ground. After all the bodies hit the floor, the 212 Boyz stopped firing on them. The victorious crew celebrated for a moment, their plan was working. The 212 Boyz managed to get their hands on some high end military weapons from a new contact, and then they ambushed the Sons collectors and dealers just to piss them off.

Knowing they would want revenge, the Boyz had all their members stay out of site until their look out could get their attention. After that was history, now the Boyz were dead set on taking Spanish Harlem for themselves. As they were about to leave, a thunderous roar came from a side street. The five armed Boyz were cut to pieces by a large amount of fire. The unarmed look out at lagged behind and managed to survive. He stood in horror as saw his buddies chopped to pieces.

The banger then heard footsteps and he looked into the direction, and his eyes went wide with fear. Approaching him was a muscular Caucasian man with black hair and a five o'clock shadow. His blue eyes were cold and staring right at him. The man was wearing black combat pant, boots, kneepads, fingerless gloves and elbow pads, he also had a black Kevlar vest on with a huge white skull on it. The gang member knew who the man who slaughtered his friend, the vigilante known as the Punisher. And this man was coming right for the banger armed with a M60E4 light machine gun in his hands.

The man turn and ran but didn't get far when a 7.62×51mm round went straight through his thigh. The man let out an agonizing scream and hit the ground. As the Punisher walked up on him, the gangster was clutching his bleeding wound. The vigilante simply keeled down and looked at the man with cold eyes.

"Nice guns your friends had, where did you guys get them," Punisher said coldly.

"Fuck you, I aint saying...shit to your...psycho ass," the defiant gangster said through the pain.

"If you don't tell me, then I'll just look for more of your homeboys and I'll get my answer," Punisher replied.

"Man...no one but Buster know who got that fucking hardware," the look out said.

"Then that's who I'll talk to then," Punisher finished.

Punisher simply stood back up, backed up, aimed and put an extended burst into the thug. After finishing up, the Punisher walked away into the darkness of New York City as sirens filled the air.

_**30 minutes later**_

_**Shootout Crime Scene**_

A unmarked sedan pulled up to the scene and parked. The driver side door opened and a woman stepped out of it. She was a stunning Caucasian woman, with long black hair in a ponytail and fiery green eyes. She was wearing a green dress shirt, black dress pants and shoes. On her hip was a holster with a 9mm S&W Model 5906 pistol. She approached the police tape, she reached into her pocket and removed her police badge and showed it to a uniformed police officer.

"Detective Karen Chevalier, 18th Precinct," She said.

The uniformed cop lifted the tape and Karen walked to the scene, she looked upon the carnage of the place, dead Puerto Rican and African-American gang members were butchered. Standing in the middle of this was a very muscular light skinned African-American man wearing a black t-shirt, blue jeans and black work boots. His head was shaved and had hard brown eyes. He had a Glock 19 in a shoulder holster and Karen keen eyes noticed the bulge by his ankle, which meant a back up. She approached the man.

"You in charge of the scene?" Karen said.

"Yeah, Detective Scott Jackson, NYPD Organized Crime Control Bureau, Gang Division," The big man said.

"Karen Chevalier, Punisher Task Force," Karen said.

"Yeah, I remember you," Scott said, "The only person to volunteer for the job."

"So what do we have," Karen said, wanting to get to business.

"We think the Sons of Revenge want some payback for the 212 Boyz killing some of their boys and stealing drugs," Scott said. "But the Boyz seemed to upgrade their weapons."

The two detectives walked over to a group of CSU techs, who were bagging the assault rifles.

"Where the hell did these assholes get this kind of firepower?" Karen asked.

"No idea, but they only used it on on the Sons, then they got chewed by a 7.62mm machine gun," Scott said.

"That's sounds like the Punisher to me," Karen said.

There was a short period of pause between the two detective

"So how do you want to play this?" Scott asked.

"Knowing Castle, he'll be all over this gang shit," Karen said, "I'll meet you at One Police Plaza tomorrow, and we'll figure something."

"See you there then," Scott said.

After that, the two detectives went their separate ways.

_**Punisher's Hideout, **__**Brooklyn.**_

The Punisher's non descript, highly customized "Battle Van" pulled up to his abandoned warehouse lair. He opened up the loading bay doors and drove in, turning off the van, and exiting the vehicle. The vigilante went to the back of the van and removed all the gear he had brought with him. After that was done, he moved through the darkened warehouse to a service elevator. Stepping inside, he hit the up buttoned and the elevator took the man to second floor.

Once the elevator stopped, Punisher walked into the second floor, which acted as his armory, living area, kitchen and bathroom. He headed towards his armory and laid his weapons on his work desk. The M60E4 was first, then a pair of Para-Ordnance P14 .45 ACP pistols, a M92F 9mm pistol and several knives. He would clean them, but first he needed to get some food in his stomach. As started towards the kitchen, he removed his bullet proof vest and put on a chair for now.

Punisher walked up to his refrigerator and opened it up. He grabbed a ham sandwich with lettuce, tomato and a bottle of water. He turned around and headed for his bed area and sat down, unwrapping his sandwich and began to eat it in silence. For the first couple of moments his mind was blank as he ate, but then he turned to see a poster board with pictures on them. Most was of a blonde woman with a blonde girl and a black haired boy. In one life, the Punisher was Frank Castle, a former Force Recon Marine who went to war for his country. When he come back from the war, he tried to live his life, but one day it was taken away from him. His family was caught in a gang shootout and they were killed. He survived but the justice system failed badly and the killers went free. So he took matters in his own hands and killed those responsible, and he has continued ever since.

Frank looked away from the board and pushed his memories deep inside himself. He finished his sandwich and water and then grabbed a phone, dialed a number and put the phone to his ear.

"Yeah," A male voice come from the other side of the line.

"We need to talk, I'll be at your place tomorrow at noon," Frank said deadpan.

"Alright, see you then," The man said and the line cut.

Frank put the phone and decided to go clean his weapons and get some rest.

_**Continental **__**Security Corporation HQ**_

_**Atlantic City, New Jersey**_

On the top floor of the CSC Building, a man was looking out the window, taking in the view of city. He was wearing an expense black suit with a blue tie and black dress shoes. He had deep brown eyes and short brown hair. For Michael Bernhart, he was living his dream. Before he owned and operated CSC, he was a Captain in the Green Berets and a veteran of the first Gulf War. Well before that, he was the only son of a wealthy military family. After an honorable discharge and his parents death, he invested in the private military company. Two years ago, he bought CSC from the original owner. Under his leadership, CSC became a big player in the Defense industry.

One of his most successful ventures was buying aging weapons from state militaries and sell them to such police SWAT teams or upgrade them and have his PMC soldiers. He was getting so much business, he decided to sell them to less than reputable people like gangs, organized crime and paramilitary groups. But he wasn't worried, he was untouchable. If anybody tried to spill his secret, they would get a surprise. A knock at the door grabbed his attention and in came his assistant, a good looking Mexican woman with black hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a business suit with skrit.

"What is it Ana," Michael said.

"The police found the 212 Boyz with the weapons we sold to them," Ana said, "They wasted a bunch of Los Hijos de Venganza's."

"So, the police won't connect it to us," Michael said arrogantly.

"However, they were killed themselves," Ana said, "My police contact said the Punisher was involved."

That bit of information did make Michael think abit.

"OK, keep an eye on this Ana," Michael ordered, "But right now, this is the police's problem." __


	2. Issue Two

_**Untouchable Part Two**_

_**Written by Poseidon Productions**_

It was late fall, and there was a chill in the air. The people of the lower east side of Manhattan were dressing up warmly today. Frank Castle was walking down the street, making his way to his meeting with the man on the phone. He was wearing a black hoody sweatshirt, blue jeans and black boots. He was also wearing a New York Yankees hat with the hood over his head, to cover his facial features. He was approaching the meeting place, the Blue Wolf gun shop, a good place for civilians to get pistols for self-defense.

Frank walked into an alley and approached the back of the shop. He knocked on the heavy steel door and waited for the man. Several locks were heard unlocking and then opened. A man stood there, six foot, four inches tall, blonde hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a white undershirt, tan coat, black jeans and brown work boots. Daniel Jager was a former Master Sargent of the U.S. Army's Ordnance Corps and now a gun shop owner and Frank's supplier of military weapons.

"Good your here, let's talk inside," Daniel said.

"Right," Frank said as he stepped inside.

The two men were in the back of the shop, he had employees working in the shop, but they all knew Daniel dealt with Frank. Most of the employees had family who was either victimized or killed by criminals, just like the Daniel himself. Daniel was originally from Chicago, and when he came back from the Army, his younger sister was raped and murdered by the Aztec Asociación. One week later, his youngest brother was killed by an Aztec drive by shooting.

Despite the outrage from the city, those responsible went free. Frank came to Chicago to finally end the Asociación once and for all. With Daniel's help, the Aztec's were utterly destroyed. After that, Daniel moved to New York and opened the Blue Wolf. He also had many contacts in the military-industrial complex and gave Frank weapons. Daniel also gave Frank intel on gun running operations.

"So, what do you need Frank," Daniel said.

"You hear about that gang shootout in Spanish Harlem?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, I heard the 212 Boyz blew away a lot of Sons of Revenge," Daniel answered, "The police said the Boyz had some good fire power."

"They had M4A1's with Beta C-Mags," Frank said.

Daniel's eyes went wide.

"Were the fuck did they get that kind of fire power," Daniel said in surprise.

"I take it you haven't heard anything in the gun runner circles," Frank said.

"Not a word," Daniel said, "If someone had weapons like that, they couldn't keep their mouths shut."

Frank thought over this for a moment. Who ever was dealing these guns, were not apart of the normal circles.

"I think we need to get Liz on this," Daniel said.

Frank nodded to the suggestion. Elizabeth Irons was a hacker that Frank saved from her stalking ex-boyfriend. Since then, she gives Frank intel every now and again.

"I also have a new gun for you," Daniel said.

The two men then went into a basement area of the shop. It was filled to the prim with weapons that Frank could take if he wanted. On a table, was a weapon that looked like a M4 carbine.

"Here you go Frank," Daniel said, "The M27 Infantry Automatic Rifle."

Frank had wanted to get his hands this weapon. The Marines wanted a more maneuverability and displacement speed for it's automatic rifleman. Daniel gave Frank some magazines, five thirty round ones and five forty-five round ones. He also took some optics, laser sights and some other things he needed and put them in duffel bag.

"If Liz gets anything, contact me," Frank said.

"You got it, Frank," Daniel said.

_**One Police Plaza**_

_**Later that day**_

The headquarters of the NYPD was always busy, and Scott Jackson was moving to the front desk. He asked the secretary where he could find Karen Chevalier. She answered that Karen was in the basement area of the plaza. He went to an elevator and went down to the basement, which was used to store files. Scott managed to find a door that said "Punisher Task Force." Scott entered the room and saw all the files that pertained to the vigilante.

The gang detective went to the middle of room and saw Karen, writing in a note book. When the muscular detective came closer, Karen looked up at him and smiled.

"It's good to see you here, Detective Jackson," Karen said, "Please have a seat."

"Just call me Scott," the big detective said as he sat down.

"So, How much do you know about the Punisher," Karen said.

"The only thing I know, is that some people killed his family and he killed them and everybody since," Scott said.

"Well, you need a brief history of Punisher," Karen said.

Karen reached for a remote and turned off the lights, she then pressed a button on the remote and a projector came to life. The first picture on a prepared screen showed a younger Frank Castle, wearing a Marine Uniform holding a Marine Mameluke sword.

"Frank was once a Special Forces Captain in the U.S. Marine Corps," Karen said, "He did some very black ops stuff for the military before he was reassigned to be an instructor."

She clicked the remote again, this time it was a Frank with a woman, a ten year old girl and a five year old boy.

"Like you said, he had a family, his wife Maria, daughter Lisa and son Frank Jr," Karen said, "But one day he takes his family to a picnic and they are caught in a gang shoot out."

"Who were the shooters," Scott asked.

"The Costa Mafia and the Frozen Warriors Motorcycle Club," Karen said.

Scott had heard of both of them, the Costa's were once the most powerful Mafia in the East Coast but they were wiped out. The Frozen Warriors were still around, having chapters all over America.

"Why start shooting each other up, most of the time the bikers get along with the mob?" Scott asked.

"One of the patched members of the Frozen Warriors killed a Costa soldier in a drunken fight," Karen said, "When the Costa's wanted reperations for what happen, the Frozen Warriors told them to fuck right off."

"So two crews converge on Central Park and have a firefight," Karen continued, "The Castle family had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and Maria, Lisa and Frank Jr. paid the price for it,"

Karen clicked the remote again, this time it was a crime scene photo of the three victims. Maria was shot several times in the chest, Lisa was shot in the head and Frank Jr. had been shot in the mouth as he screamed. A picture of Frank in the hospital, after his surgery. Scott was shocked at what he had seen.

"Frank was the only survivor and unfortunately both the Costa's and the Frozen Warriors had power over the cops and courts," Karen said, "No one went to jail and Frank went on a rampage and killed both of the groups,"

"

And the rest was history," Scott said.

Karen said nothing at the comment.

"Since I don't know the two groups that were involved last night, mind if you give me a run down on them," Karen said.

"Sure," Scott said. "The Sons of Revenge and the 212 Boyz have been bitter rivals since the 1980's."

"Drugs and prostitutes I assume," Karen said.

"That plus racial issues," Scott said, "Ask anybody out of the street and they'll tell you that the niggers hate the spics and vice versa."

"But the question is how the 212 Boyz managed to get those military grade weapons," Karen said.

"Bingo, that's the million dollar question," Scott said.

___**Sons of Revenge Territory **_

___**Night Time**_

The Sons of Revenge were on edge since the shooting of the war party the other night. But some of them were still trying to have a good time. A bunch of high ranking members including Javier "Lobo" Lopez was enjoying a barbecue. If the 212 Boyz even tried to come after them, they had heavily armed guards. All of the security were armed with HK53's, a 5.56mm compact variant of the HK33 rifle. However, the Sons were not aware that their enemies had seriously upgraded their weapons.

A few cars came screeching up the street, and the Sons opened up on the first one. The car was chewed up with rounds and it exploded in a fiery ball. When the Sons had to reload, two 212 Boyz armed with M249 light machine guns opened up on the crowd of Sons and their families. All kinds of limbs were being ripped apart, heads being blown off. The Boyz were not being discriminate, they were killing guards, the high ranking members, woman and kids. Lopez saw both his wife, daughter and mother were killed before a bullet caught him in the eye and he died.

After their LMG's clicked dry, the Boyz drove away, cheering about their victory_._

___**212 Boyz Territory**_

___**Few Minutes Later**_

The triumphant gangbangers back to their hideout, still cheering the successful drive-by on the Sons of Revenge. When they pulled up to their garage, Brock "Buster" Jones was waiting. Buster was a muscular dark skinned African American man wearing a gray hoody and due rag, baggy jeans and sneakers. He was all smiles when he saw his bothers come in.

"I see that our raid was successful," Buster said.

"Fuck yeah, fuckin wetbacks didn't see it coming," The lead 212 Boy said.

"My nigga," Buster said as they bumped fists.

Then anobject sailed right in the middle of them and struck one of the cars, making it explode. Buster and the war party leader hit the ground when a second projectile hit the car, creating a similar explosion. All the bangers standing by the cars were either consumed in the fire ball or ripped to shreds by shrapnel. As the two remaining men stood up, the turned to see the Punisher come walking up to them. Slung on his side was a M32 Multiple Grenade Launcher and in one hand was an P14 .45 handgun.

The gang banger not killed in the blast tried for his side arm, but the vigilante simply double tapped him in the head. His brains and blood came exploding out the back of his head. Buster turn to run, but two .45ACP rounds hit the back of the kneecaps. The leader of the 212 Boyz screamed in pain and hit the ground. Frank walked up to the man and spoke to him.

"I'm going to tell you this once," Punisher said, "Tell me who supplied you with your weapons and I'll give you a swift death, refuse and you die slow."

Buster had heard the stories of people who refused to talk to the Punisher, all of them were bad and bloody. He rather take a bullet to the head than to be tortured slowly by this crazy bastard.

"It was...a man named Bako...he's some kind of middle man...for a rich muthafuka," Buster said through the pain, "Now do it...kill me...asshole."

Punisher pointed his .45 and put three rounds in his throat. Frank let him suffer a little for all the innocents involved in the shootout. The man choked on his own blood for an moment or two before finally dying. With his mission done, Punisher walked into the darkness of New York City.


	3. Issue Three

_**Untouchable Part Three**_

_**Written by Poseidon Productions**_

In the warehouse base of Frank Castle, he was preparing for war. Since his attack on the 212 Boyz war party that massacred the SOR and many innocence died. Frank was sitting by table that had weapons, ammo, grenades and others thing. The weapon Frank was working on was the newly acquired M27 Infantry Automatic Rifle, cleaning it and loaded it with forty-five round clip with 5.56mm rounds. He puts the weapon down and grabbed a 9mm MP5K sub-machine gun, checked it and loaded up it with thirty round magazine. The vigilante put down the weapon and then grabbed his two Para-Ordnance P14 .45 ACP pistols and loaded them with fourteen round magazines.

As he continued on his preparations, the elevator dinged and Frank took one of his P14's and aimed it at the elevator. A slim woman with shoulder length black hair and brown eyes came into view. She had black rimmed glass on and had black hoody, sweat pants and tennis shoes on. Elizabeth "Liz" Irons was the hacker that Frank had saved from her crazy ex-boyfriend, who tried to kill her. Her reaction to a gun pointed at her was indifferent, Frank did this by instinct and pointed his gun on her very time she visited his hideouts. When Frank registered it was her, he lowered his weapon. The female hacker went up to a separate table and put down a laptop. She was there to share intel with Frank.

"What do you have for me," Frank said to Liz, walking up to her.

Liz said nothing to him for the moment, typing a few more commands and then turned the laptop towards Frank. There was a picture of a Caucasian man with bald head and cold blue eyes.

"Roman Bako, former Green Beret and now apart of _Continental Security Corporation," Liz said flatly._

"How do figure it was him?" Frank asked.

"Easy, CSC is currently buying aging weapon systems and selling them to SWAT or keeping them," Liz said, "You could sell those weapons to gangs."

Frank could only think about the information he was being given to him.

"I looked at the money trail of CSC, most of money is legit," Liz explained, "But I found off shore accounts in the Cayman Islands and other tax havens."

"So he keeps his blood money in those banks, so the government can't find out where it came from," Frank said.

"Exactly, seems mighty suspicious to me," Liz said.

Frank simply nodded, turned around, and walked to a duffel bag. He unzipped it and reached in and pulled out some money for Liz. During the day, Liz is a IT specialist for a computer company and made a decent amount of money. But Frank always compensated her for her work, since she could go to prison for being one of her informants. Liz took the money and smiled at Frank. She gave Frank a USB stick full of information and took her leave.

Frank, ready to bring his war to the corrupt company, resumed his preparations.

**_Home of Roman Bako_**

**_Outside Atlantic City, New Jersey_**

"Are you sure," Roman Bako said to Michael Bernhart on the phone.

"Yes, someone hacked in our system and took a lot of information," Micheal said, "We're sending you more security just in case Frank Castle shows up."

"Alright Michael, I'll see you later," Roman said and then cut the line.

The bald man put down his cell phone and walked up to his drawer. He opened one drawer and lifted out a nickle plated PT92 pistol, a Brazilian clone of the Beretta 92F. Loading in a fresh fifteen round magazine and then walked to his security room. In this room, he could see all of his property and see his guards. Most of his personal security detail were all convicts from other countries, given freedom by CSC. The PMC would then forge their histories and then let them in America. If these men tried to betray Michael or any other CSC executive, the truth would be known to INS and they would be deported. No matter what happen though, CSC would never be implicated.

But now they face a man who is not constrained by the law, and would come after them until he killed them or they killed him. Roman looked at the screens showing the various areas. His guards were wearing suits with protected vest underneath them. Most of them were armed with M16A2 assault rifles, but a few had Remington 870 pump action shotguns. All of them had .45ACP Ruger SR1911 handguns as a back up. Just as Roman was about to relay some orders through the radio, the power suddenly shut down.

"Crusader 1-1 this is Crusader Actual!" Roman shouted, "What the fuck is going on."

"This is Crusader 1-1, we..AHHHH!" Crusader 1-1 managed to get out before being cut down by automatic gunfire.

"So it begins," Roman said darkly.

**_Outside_**

Frank Castle was in killing machine mode. Mowing down freed convicts with the M27 IAR currently firing with one of the forty-five round banana mags. Since it was night out, Frank had on night-vision goggles and could see things clearly. The cons turned bodyguards could only shoot at the direction of Frank's muzzle flash. Men were going down in droves, knee caps were getting capped, chest being blown out and heads being ventilated.

Frank felt no guilt, these men were mercs, war criminals and other scum who did not deserve either freedom or their lives. How CSC managed to get them in country was beyond Frank, but he would end them. His M27 clicked dry and Frank changed position, in order to confuse the enemy. When he found a good position, Frank ejected the spent clip and put in a knew forty-five round clip. In the clip were 5.56mm armor piercing ammo.

After chambering in a round, Frank aimed at enemy, who had no night vision but were using flashlights. Frank squeezed the trigger and the M27 roared to life. Yet again, the mercs were gunned down in a bloody massacre. After the gun went empty, Frank slung it and drew out his MP5K and advance towards the house. The lethal vigilante made it to the door without being shot at and made his way inside. Frank stealthily made his way towards the steps but notice two more mercs waiting for him.

A rare grin formed on Frank's face, he took out a M67 grenade and tossed it up at the two men. The two men heard the thump of the grenade, but had no time to move. The explosion was deafening and the enclosed space they were in made things worse. When the smoke cleared, Frank walked up the stairs and looked at the bodies. They were riddled with shrapnel and burned from the fire. Frank continued his search for Bako, clearing each room. The only people Frank had to worry was the guards and Bako, no innocence was here.

Soon Frank found his way to a room that served as a command post. As he approached, three rounds ripped through the door and hit Frank right in the chest. Luckily Frank had his bullet proof vest on, the Kevlar managed to stop the bullets from penetrating, but Frank felt the impact. He stumbled a bit, but the hardened vigilante managed to recover fast. Before more bullets cold come through, Frank aimed his MP5K and fired his entire clip into the door. A pained grunt was heard and then a loud thud.

Frank made his way to the door and kicked the door in. he rushed inside to find Bako dead on the ground, a pool of blood around him. Any other time, Frank would curse himself for gunning the man down, since dead men give no reliable information. However, Liz had done a completely outstanding job on getting him all the intel that he didn't need Bako alive for that. His whole mission was to ghost the bastard. Without any more people to kill, Frank made his way out of the house and into the darkness.

Two Hours Later

Bako residence crime scene.

Detectives Karen Chevalier and Scott Jackson were looking around the scene, a scene of a total bloodbath. Bodies littered both the outside and inside of the residence. The owner, Roman Bako took a whole clip of a sub-machine gun in the chest. The two NYPD detectives finished up their inspection and walked up towards their car.

"Why the fuck would Frank waste a PMC executive and a bunch of guards," Scott said.

"I don't know," Karen said, "Could it be connected to the weapons?"

"Even it is, going to CSC will lead us to stonewalling," Scott said.

"What do you mean?" Karen questioned.

"Had a friend in Homicide do a case when a PMC contractor killed his wife," Scott said, "Something to do with injections from the PMC that made him go fucking berserk and slice his wife apart with a machete."

Karen simply shook her head in disgust.

"When they tried to get his medical records from the PMC, they refused, saying it was classified," Scott continued "They tried the government, but they wouldn't help. The fucker managed to get off with an insanity defense."

Karen was going to say something but in the corner of her eye, she saw a man she didn't see around when they inspected the crime scene. It was an older man wearing a black trench coat, white dress shirt and black tie, dress pants, shoes. He had black hair that was graying on sides. His one eye that was visible had hard brown, like the man saw a lot of bad things. Karen looked at him for a second then walked towards him. This man could have information on the Punisher.

"Hey, NYPD, I have questions for you," Karen said to man as she closed in.

The man said nothing, he reached into his trench coat and pulled out a cigar, he was cutting the end off when Karen got closer.

"Hey did you hear me?" She questioned the man with annoyance.

The man looked at her, he had an eye patch over his right eye.

"Get the fuck away from me," The man said to her harshly

"You want me to run you in to jail, maybe then you will cooperate," Karen threatened.

"Try it, see what happens," The man threatened back.

Karen was reaching for her cuffs but felt a hand on he shoulder. She looked over to see Scott shaking his at her. She looked back to see the man with the eye patch light his cigar and get into the back of a Humvee and it drive away. Karen whirled around and glared angrily at Scott.

"What the hell are you doing!" Karen nearly shouted.

"Look, one of the officers here told me that guy was someone from the Department of Defense," Scott said sternly, "He would stonewall you, even if you arrested him, he'd be out before you got him back to any station you went to."

Karen said nothing, this whole ordeal was getting weirder by the minute. She simply went back to the car and Scott went with her. They got in and drove away, going to their temporary home, a motel room. Most of the ride was in silence, however their was a nagging question Scott wanted to ask Karen.

"Hey Karen, I got a question for you?"

"Why I volunteered for this job," Karen answered.

Scott simply nodded, she must have answered this question dozens of times already. However it was a good question, most people who were part of the Punisher Task Force were losers, fuck ups and other people the NYPD didn't want to deal with. No one ever volunteered for the shit assignment.

"You heard of Kevin Baron," Karen said darkly.

"That really corrupt cop who Castle offed a year and half ago," Scott answered.

"He was my half brother," Karen said.

Scott looked at Karen with a confused look on his face.

"It's not common knowledge," Karen answered.

"So you want revenge on him for killing him," Scott said.

A flash of anger went across Karen's eyes.

"No, I worked with Internal Affairs to bring his ass down, but then the Punisher comes in and fucks everything up," Karen said angrily, "I wanted to bring my brother to justice, not have him taking a shotgun blast to the chest."

"Alright Alright, I believe you," Scott said, "I'll drop the issue."

The two detectives drove the rest of the ride in silence.

**_Continental Security Corporation HQ_**

Michael Bernhart had just got off the phone with a police contact, his friend Roman Bako was dead. Killed by the Punisher. He turned to his assistant Anna.

"Mobilized the Cleaners, the orders are to kill the Punisher," Michael said grimly.


End file.
